Untitled Marvel Story
by Covington
Summary: When Derek Powers' son is Kidnapped he is forced to come to grips with the truth of the situation; but, Powers is willing to put all of the painful truths behind him on order to get his son back away from his kidnappers at any cost.
1. Chapter 1

The sun burned a vibrant yellow over the schoolhouse. The children, freshly released from their classes began to pour out of the doors in a chaotic, yet expected, wave. The sounds of hundreds of conversations, pleasantries and goodbyes mixed with the sight of arriving and departing cars of all type amassed together devouring the block.

Derek Powers stood across the street next to his parked, tinted windowed, black car and waited patiently. Though it seemed that there were a million and one children he knew that he would not miss his son the moment he walked out of the school. A few of the parents waved at Powers; but, none of them talked to him, perhaps out of fear, he was a powerful man but, the nature of that power was not what the other parents thought it was. The truth was that if he ever was to come into an adverse situation with one of them they would never know about it until it were either too late or resolved.

They all assumed that he carried a concealed weapon at all times, which was mostly true and that was the reason he never entered the school; but, their assumption was one of negative connotation and the truth was simple and easy to find. In a fifteen year career Powers had only drawn his weapon ten times; fired 4 of those times and never killed a person. Most people assumed that because of his nature of work that he was quick to murder; but, the idea of death in fact put fear into Powers, plus killing someone wasn't the best way to assert his power, if he killed someone he didn't do the job right.

Death wasn't something Powers was used to thinking about and as of right now it was the furthest thing from his mind. The simple joys of life were the most enjoyable to Powers and picking his son up from school was the most simple and enjoyable of them all. Years ago, when his mother was still alive, she would pick him up and if he had the chance Powers would follow the car and watch them meet and go home. Work was a twenty-four hour chance so when he could spare the time to see them he did so and without question. Powers could recall one event when it was raining; she went to take him home and he didn't want to come out of the school house because it was raining. So she stood there and called to him; all the while getting soaked until he was convinced to do the same; they both played in the rain for a small while and went back home. It was that which made Powers happy.

When his wife died six years ago in a hurricane rescue effort, Powers was unsure of what to do with his life. His mind suffered a powerful shock and he was issued to go into several psychiatric care treatments; the evaluations at first appeared to be moot; but, when Powers was briefly reunited his son he showed progress. There wasn't much after that; more treatment and the Powers moved back into his home with his son. They lived and Powers knew his son was his world; everyday he looked more and more like his mother. That wasn't to say that their life together without their wife/mother was not awkward. At best the father and son had a loving; but, often odd relationship. Powers wasn't able to appropriate love in the same his wife did and there were moments where both father and son wanted to call out for the mother to resolve an issue she would be able to handle.

Still they did their best and as much as father looked out for son, son looked after father. Ashton Powers was a precocious young boy; just about to enter puberty, which Derek knew was going to bring more oddity to the table, and knew his father had a burden on him that he didn't expect, so in return he tried to make it easier on his father; but, didn't like that his father ignored and pretended that Ashton didn't understand the issues. It was that understanding that made Ashton somewhat difficult to handle at times. Derek noticed when Ashton was frustrated; but, at the same time couldn't bring himself to not put on a protection coat for Ashton. Derek understood his son; but, wished he was a little more naïve just so he may be able to protect his son more.

Another strain on the relationship was Powers job. Though he's never had to lie about his job; most people were clueless about what he really did, in fact the only person outside his job who possibly knew what he _actually_ did was his son. That didn't worry Derek too much; because, he was sure that his son wasn't positive about what he did; but, in comparison to other people, Ashton knew more.

As If there were some kind of psychic connection Derek knew when his son had exited the schoolhouse. The site of his young boy made him smile instantly, though his son never seemed to have the same enthusiasm. Ashton walked slowly and without acknowledging that he saw his father until he came right up to the car and continued to go straight for the passenger's side back door.

"No Hello?" Derek asked. The boy sighed and began to climb into the car.

"Hello dad."

Despite the traffic coming out of the school, there was barely any traffic for the Powers on the way back home. Most of the families in the school lived closed by; but, the Powers lived in the opposite direction and twice as far as the furthest family. The distance was purposeful and it wasn't because Derek didn't want to live near families as some of the parents assumed; it was really because the drive from the house to the school was forty-five minutes and that was forty-five more minutes to be with his son. His work took him anywhere and often times for longer amounts of time(in that case he would call his wife's family to take care of Ashton in the meantime) so it didn't make any sense to live close to the school; simply because Derek was never home anyway.

They lived in a different city and to get from home to school took them through a small country town. It was intentional, his wife loved the country; but, Derek's line of work determined that he live in a city as much as possible; if only for easy transportation and communication. So driving through the country everyday gave him a bit of solace; it was one of the last connections to his wife that he had.

Ashton knew it too; one summer the three of them stayed at a summer house and the small country town looked so much like the town they stayed in; especially in the fall. The sight did just as much for Ashton as it did for Derek.

When they were home; Ashton jumped out of the car and went into the house before Derek had shut the car off. Derek, in no rush, walked into the house and into the kitchen.

"Are you hungry!?" Derek shouted out to his son who he thought was in a different room.

"No…" Ashton answered, from the table behind Derek. The misappropriation of his son startled him slightly and he turned quick to compensate. "…I need help with this." Ashton tapped his textbook with a pen.

"What is it?" Derek asked as he walked over to sit next to his son.

"Biology," Ashton answered tersely. "…amino acids and midi-" Ashton started.

"Midichlorians?" Derek tried to joke; but, his son didn't seem amused.

"Mitochondria" Ashton corrected; Derek frowned.

"Well it's been a long time since I've done a question like this." Derek answered truthfully.

"It's been over an hour since I last did it and I don't know what answer is…" Ashton answered. "…So I think that puts us in the same boat." Ashton frowned. Derek looked through the book and came to the back and flipped through the pages.

"I think the answer is A" Derek answered; Ashton looked over the question and the answer and gave a questioning look.

"It says so in the answer index." Derek answered; Ashton frowned again.

"That's not going to help me on my test on Friday." Ashton answered unhappily.

"Well we have some time to figure it out." Derek answered. "…that's if you don't mind sitting around with me for some time." Derek continued.

"I don't as long as this gets down before eight." Ashton answered.

"T.V. Show?" Derek asked.

"Wrestling." Ashton answered.

"I thought you stopped watching that." Derek said.

"I did…" Ashton answered; Derek watched him waiting for the rest of the answer; it came in some time. "…but I have a quiz on _that_ tomorrow during lunch." Ashton answered. Derek laughed and before long they began to work on the homework.

It took until slightly after eight to finish all the homework; but, Derek was more disappointed that Ashton. Disappointed in the fact that his son's home work had proven to be more difficult for him than his son; but, around ten-thirty the two began to decide to settle into bed. Ashton was first and after a couple of minutes Derek went to his room upstairs.

"I don't suppose you want me to read you a bed-time story do you?" Derek asked while going past Ashton's room to the bathroom.

"Goodnight dad" was the generated answer, laced with a bit of fake annoyance to complete the effect of wanting to be left alone.

Derek went into the bathroom and prepared to clean up before laying in bed and reading news stories until two A.M. before deciding to sleep. He took off his shirt and stayed in his undershirt and began to wash his face; the cool water felt refreshing against his skin and was really how he determined a new day coming into play. He grabbed his toothbrush and did his preliminary brushing before adding the toothpaste; as he brushed he felt a vibration on his leg.

Derek had a cell phone and a blackberry. When the phone rung it was nothing; wrong number or some minute issue that he could deal with; but, when the blackberry rung it was something different. When the blackberry went off it was the job. It was rare for it to go off at this time of night; even though it wasn't necessary late; most issues that included his involvement happened earlier in the day. It was always strange when the blackberry went off, it meant that he would have to go out and there wasn't a guaranteed chance that he would come back. Whilst still brushing Derek took his Blackberry out and read the text that had been sent.

**Services Needed; Report A.S.A.P. Use landline 48 From: 817**

Derek read the message several times; before taking the toothbrush out and took a swig of Listerine. Landline 48 was a phone booth downtown in the city; it was the most frequent phone that he used for communication. However the message read strangely; the Blackberrys were on a secure connection; they were essentially untraceable impossible to intercept. There was no call back number, 817 were the numerical values for the letters HQ which stood for headquarters. The terseness of the text seemed odd; but, it could only mean that something unexpected had happened. It was a fifteen minute drive to 48 and Derek decided not waste any more time. He put his shirt back on and walked out of the bathroom, while passing Ashton's room he called out:

"Work called; I should be back before morning to take you to school."

"And if you're not?" Ashton called back.

"I'll call someone to pick you up before you wake up."

"fine."

Derek walked down the stairs and out the door; he jumped in the car and began to drive in the cool night air. When he got to 48 he put a quarter in and dialed the number and waited.

Elsewhere:

Ashton never went straight to bed, most nights he sat up reading or thinking to himself about school the next day. This night wasn't any different. He sat up and thought about what could have happened in the twenty-two minutes of wrestling that he missed so that when he was grilled about it the next day he wouldn't seem like he missed any of it. His room was hot; it was fall; but the heat was on and it wasn't necessary. Ashton got up and opened the window and instantly he knew there was something strange. There was no air. Not a breeze could be felt and Ashton found that to be odd. Ashton looked around outside; but, couldn't see anything , it was pitch black. It felt as If the entire world outside his window was in some sort of vacuum; feeling a slight bit of vertigo from the lack of form outside his window Ashton stepped back and took a deep breath. He walked over to his desk and turned on the mini-lamp. For a little moment he thought about looking through his biology book again to see if he really understood what he had done earlier in the day; but, he had a rule about over studying and ruining the information he had taken in earlier. He still sat at the desk for a moment until he felt the entire house vibrate slightly. The movement frightened him; this area wasn't prone to earthquakes; but, if it were one what would he do? His father had left and he didn't know how to prepare for something of that sort. The Vibrations came again and again, slight; but, noticeable. Ashton decided to go to the window and see if he could make out anything going on outside. Still nothingness; couldn't even see his lawn; it was strange…it almost felt as if there were something blocking the view. Ashton slowly stuck his had outside the window and when it was halfway out he hit what felt like metal. Fear suddenly gripped his body and before he could snatch his hand back it was already too late. The roof came crashing down and he was snatched out of the window before he could begin to scream.

Derek was still on hold; waiting for an answer about the text; he had been through four people already and all of them had told him that there were no alerts out that required his assistance. When a voice came back on the phone it was the voice of a gruff older man.

"Agent Powers?" The voice asked; Derek nodded on his end in a bit of agitation.

"Yes; this is agent Powers was going on with this alert?" He asked.

"It seems you were sent an alert in error." The man explained.

"Error?"

"Yes; we have only a few alerts out and none of them require your service; according to my information you should be receiving another text message soon regarding the matter; but, I can assure you that there is nothing requiring your service at this time and you may go back to whatever it was that you were doing before you received the message." The man explained.

"Fine" Upset at the false alarm, Derek rung off and hurried back to his car.

He drove in the night slowly; not fully anxious to get back home and still wondering what was going on with the false alarm. It wasn't like H.Q. at all to send something in error. As he drove the blackberry vibrated again and he quickly glanced at the message.

**Disregard last alert. Error in processing. From: 817**

Derek scoffed at the message; it was sent ten minutes after he had left the house. What a strange night this had been; but, he would sleep and wake up and forget it happened. As he neared his house he noticed several fire trucks and ambulances parked with their lights on near his block.

"What the hell is going on now?" Derek muttered to himself. He drove slower trying to see the faces of his neighbors; but, as he got closer and closer to home he noticed more and more emergency crews. Until he saw his house. The panic swept his body in one motion and he jumped out of the car with his gun drawn.

The roof looked as if it had been dug out by a massive bulldozer. Derek ran towards the house.'

"Ashton!" He called out at the top of his lungs. "…ASHTON!!!" he screamed again.

Before he could hit the lawn of his property he was intercepted by two cops who wrestled him to the ground; he fought them stuggling to get up continuing to scream his son's name.

"Let go of me…!" He screamed. "…I'm S.F.!" He exploded. With that the cops loosened their restraint and allowed him to stand and show his S.F. I.D. Afterwards they backed off; but, wouldn't let him in the house due to the structural damage.

Derek looked around and saw his neighbors standing in a small crowd staring at him; he sprinted towards them.

"Did any of you see Ashton!?" He begged; no one answered; they only stared at Derek as if they were staring at a ghost. Perplexed and enraged by their lack of answers Derek grabbed one of the women standing in front of him and squeezed her. "…Did you see my son!?" He bellowed. The woman screamed and broke from Derek's grip as if he had been infected with the plague. The way they were reacting to him was odd as if _he_ had done something wrong. "What the hell is wrong with you people?" He asked more calmly.

One of the men who remained staring at Derek made a quick glance to the ground that Derek noticed. Derek turned his attention to his own feet and felt his heart sink.

"Oh my god…" he whispered; tears began to form from his eyes without control. Derek began to shake his head and stutter. "no, no, no, it can't be." He repeated over and over. His knees buckled and he fell to the ground. And with his hand he grabbed the dirt under him.

Derek sat there and cried. He sat in the footprint larger than his entire body; crying; he knew what had come and he knew what had happened. It explained the roof; it explained where Ashton was and it explained the neighbors reaction to him. Fear, anger and confusion swelled throughout his body and mind. For a moment he lay there paralyzed by the sight of the footprint.

When he was able to move again he shifted to sit in the crater of a footprint and quickly readjusted not to sit on his blackberry. That's when it all came together. The 'error'; this footprint.

Someone had wanted him to leave the house.

Quickly Derek collected himself and went back to his car.

"Sir where are you going?" one of the policemen asked. Derek looked back and flashed his I.D. again.

"I'm going back to work".


	2. Chapter 2

It wasn't long after Powers began driving did the intensity of the situation take control of him, and it wasn't long after that did he notice that his car's tank had begun leaking gasoline. In the black of night he got out of the car to see that his tank had been punctured with some kind of object. Within forty-five minutes of him driving off the car was unusable. Fortunately for him there was a small inn near where his car had stalled and he stayed there for the night. Sleep didn't come at all; he spent most of the night going over what to say at the regional Special Forces offices in Manhattan the next day. In his career with Special Forces he had only been to three regional offices: Manhattan, San Francisco and Austin. Those three times had all been in protocol. The offices were 'hidden' so to speak; being that they didn't draw ant attention to their location. The only people interested in Special Forces business were people already in Special Forces, therefore the only people who knew where the Special Forces offices were people already in Special Forces.

The next day Powers used a cab to drive into the city and called the local authorities to tow his car away. When he entered the city Powers quickly moved downtown to 90 Broad Street. At the counter he announced he wish to be let into suite 1002. The clerk gave him a curious look before denying him.

"There is no suite 1002" the Clerk answered, Powers shook his head and leaned in closer to the clerk.

"Listen I've got very important business to attend to…" Powers stated with a tinge of malice. "…I need to be admitted into suite one thousand two right now." The clerk didn't deviate from the curious look; but, became more confident in his answer.

"Sir I've already told you. There is no such Suite in this building…" The clerk touched the phone. "…If you keep insisting I'll have to call the police." It was then that Powers recalled that there was a protocol to follow when coming into the offices on one's own.

First it was not encouraged for Special Forces agents to come to any regional office by themselves without permission. Contact via text messaging was the only form of contact between offices and agents. If there was no other option then agents could come in; but, there was a code they would have to pass along before gaining accesses to the suite.

"Brooklyn Bridge is burning" Powers recited; the clerk's face changed all together and he bit his top lip. The clerk picked up the phone and dialed; for a moment he was quite.

"This is the directory…" The clerk started. "…someone here who wants to be admitted…" Another pause.  
"…Brooklyn Bridge is burning," the clerk repeated. "…what's your name?" The clerk asked Derek.

"Powers"

"Powers…" the clerk recited; another longer pause. "…yes, I see. I will."

Powers questioned in his mind what the last words were about. "Yes, I see. I will" what could have prompted that answer and what did it mean? The clerk gave a non-verbal answer allowing Powers upstairs.

Power got into an elevator and proceeded to the tenth floor.

Special Forces was split into two very different fifteen years; while one branch essentially was a super division of Army, Navy and Air Force commanders, the other was less regal. Special Forces (Home), as it was sometimes called, was used to combat enemies within the country that might have some sort of natural or unnatural advantage over the regular statesmen who protected it, that being the police, federal marshals, F.B.I., C.I.A. and other divisions like those. That was to put a safe guard against "new" enemies that had just appeared in the last decade and a half.

In the preceding fifteen years terrorism had made its way to American soil; such as car bombings and things of the like. Special Forces was redeployed in several divisions that came back to home soil to protect it from on-soil attacks while the C.I.A. kept itself busy trying to intercept attacks from outside of the country. "Domestic" terrorist, as they're called, had sprung up in alarming numbers, many blamed it on the rapid oppression of several minority groups and the demand for equality to become a staple in American culture again. Be that as it may; terrorism had exploded from just being Islamic extremist to different kinds of socio-economic and ethnic groups attacking the country from within.

In fact radical Islam had taken a back seat to the newly erupted trend of domestic terrorism, being that the Middle East region was going through the same revolutions as America and the rest of the world. America found itself being the lead example, more than ever, for ridding oppressions. America's; however, lead had not been as grand as it could be and the world seemed to be spiraling in the wrong direction.

It wasn't specifically special forces problem; what the executive branch of the Federal Government decided to do with people was their problem and Special Forces was there to keep people from dying or, if need be, making sure the right people did.

The elevator door opened slowly and Derek walked slowly. Each floor held several small suites that were spread out. Derek made a left and walked over to the door that had no number. On the right side of the door there was a small panel that seemed to not be functioning; but, upon further use with an Identification Card the panel lit up and the door was released from its electronic lock.

Special Forces wasn't a busy place like other government agencies. Most of the work came from an operating Headquarters somewhere in the middle of the country. The most powerful people in Special Forces stayed worked in the headquarters in New York and the other states; the New York regional division was the second most powerful of the divisions. Knowing his place and what was going to come next Derek sat down in on a small sofa and waited to be helped.

Exactly forty-five seconds later a young male receptionist came and looked over some files and then at Derek. There was a pause and then the young man began to talk.

"Mr. Powers you were _not_ summoned to this office and it isn't proper procedure to show up here unannounced." The young man began; Derek stood up and adjusted his collar. He should have expected to be scolded by someone before actually getting to see a superior.

"I understand that; but, I came here on an urgent matter that I didn't feel was safe enough to discuss on a telephone." Derek responded. The young man shook his head and seemed unfazed by the explanation.

"That may be very true; but, if there was a problem this severe we would have known about it already…" the young man began. "…it's unsettling that you would put the entire office in danger by being so reckless. You're training-" The young man was suddenly stifled by Derek's sternness.

"My training was something you wouldn't be able to understand…" Derek began. "…my training did exclude me from having to have arguments with people like you. You know as well as I do that if I wasn't going to be seen by someone; I would have been out by now." The pause hung in the air for a long moment that seemed to last forever, when it was over the young man's face melted into submission.

"In three minutes you have a meeting with Ms. Greene." The young man began to walk away, anticipating confrontation.

"Greene...?" Derek asked quickly. "…I need to see Rutherford." Derek added. Before turning around completely the young man shook his head.

"You're lucky enough to have this meeting…" He said. "…Rutherford doesn't have time to deal with any person who stumbles in here." He walked away.

Special Forces was punctual, exactly three minutes went by and Derek was called into to see Samantha Greene.

Greene has been one of the first people assigned to the home division of Special Forces. She had served as Director of Homeland Security for three terms under two different presidents before agreeing to take the post in Special Forces. Though she was smart and sophisticated many believed she didn't have the ruthlessness to protect the country from its own people. A lot of people sympathized with the new 'domestic' terrorist citing that they were only striking against a government that was allowing for bigotry and hatred against their people and while that might be true, Greene still had the job of keeping the innocent people safe. That possible understanding of the 'enemy' didn't lend well to Greene in her position; but, instead of getting rid of her and seeming ruthless the government installed higher positions and bogged down her power.

When Derek walked in Greene welcomed him with a warm smile and gestured to a seat across from her.

"It's good to see you Derek…" Greene started. "…but you're coming in worries me." She added.

"Yes well I had a terrible emergency last night." Derek started.

"What happened?" Greene asked.

"My son last night was kidnapped…" Derek began; Greene's face instantly showed surprised.

"That's terrible."

"…it is; but, the reason why I brought it here is because at the exact time he was taken I was out on an erroneous summons." Derek explained.

"Erroneous…?" Greene asked quietly. "…That's uncommon."

"Those are my feelings as well…" Derek said. "…I don't think it was a coincidence."

"You think the summon was a distraction?" Greene qualified in a low tone.

"I do; but…" Derek lowered his tone to her level. "…I don't know why Special Forces would be interested in distracting me from the kidnapping of my son." Derek became silent. The weight of the situation was starting to press against his chest, he knew if he didn't calm down he may give himself a panic attack. Greene sighed.

"That _is _very strange…" Greene's faced seemed to turn to intrigue. "…I wonder if-" before she could go on the door opened and the young man stood in the doorway.

"Mr. Rutherford will see you." The young man said; Powers and Greene both stared at the young man for a long moment; before Powers turned to Greene shook her hand and walked out.

Powers took the short trip to Rutherford office alone. Before entering the office Powers suddenly realized how nervous he was going to meet the regional director of Special Forces. In the excitement of wanting to get his son back he had put protocol and consequence onto the back burner, he didn't take the time to realize the amount of danger he could be putting himself in, if he made the wrong move with Special Forces they wouldn't hesitate to expel him from his position and the reach of their power was frightening. Derek had to remember who he was dealing with and what the consequences of going too far could be. If he wanted the truth he couldn't barge into the offices and demand something be done about his missing son. At the same time Greene seemed to think something was afoot as well. What was she going to say before they were interrupted? Special Forces didn't make mistakes like the one that happened last night and for his son to be kidnapped the way he was at the exact same time as the summon was too strange to be coincidental.

Derek moved into the office quickly and stood at attention while Rutherford tapped on his computer in silence. It took a long three minutes for Rutherford to acknowledge that Powers had walked into the room, even then he didn't talk to him, and he merely looked up and made a low grunt and continued back to his computer. Derek was unsure what to do; it would possible that Derek could stand in the office for an hour and be dismissed without any words being said; didn't have the authority to demand anything; but, he didn't have patience to not get answers either.

"Do you know how many active Special Forces Agents we have in this country?" Rutherford suddenly asked; Derek was taken aback by the sudden words and had to think for a moment.

"Not many…" Derek started, he thought for another moment. "…less than one hundred" he estimated. Rutherford shook his head in some form of disapproval.

"Less than fifty…" Rutherford further added to Derek statement. "…forty-three to b e exact, at least one in every major state and some agents double on their states" Rutherford completed his answer.

"I see."

"Do you know how many of those forty-three agents came into their regional offices without being summoned?" Rutherford continued. Derek sighed and looked away from Rutherford for a moment.

"None." He answered.

"Wrong…" Rutherford quickly corrected. "…two. Yourself and Agent Starland, who was dying from poisoning and wanted to relay information he found whilst on a mission." Rutherford explained.

"I really feel my reason for-" Derek started.

"…and even when Agent Starland came in dying his office turned him away and took a recording of his last words..." Rutherford continued without acknowledging that Powers had begun speaking. "…now I've spoken to come of my regional counter parts about your sudden dropping in and the majority of them feel you should be disciplined for your action…" Derek felt his heart drop and the panic began to set it. "…But you've done some great work in the past so I'm willing to hear what you have to say, so begin." Derek almost began to thank Rutherford for the chance to speak; but, it seemed better to just to talk.

"Last night I was contacted by H.Q. about a potential mission and instructed to make contact…" Derek started. "…I left my home to make contact on an instructed payphone; but, after inquiring into the details it was revealed to me that the summon was sent in error…" Derek took a discreet pause to see the surprise in Rutherford's face at the revelation that there was an error; but, there was none. "…I found it odd; but, continued home and when I arrived my son had been…" what word to use? "…abducted by…" Derek's throat closed up he felt he couldn't bring himself to say the word. Rutherford was just beginning to show some kind of interest; his eye brow rose.

"By…" he leaned closer over his desk.

"Sentinels." The word came out like an oversize lump, clumsy and slightly distorted. Rutherford nodded and leaned back, as if satisfied by something, he also nodded slowly and tapped his finger on the desk lightly.

"I see…" Rutherford stared directly into Derek's eyes. "…and what do you think this has to do with Special Forces?" He asked.

"The erroneous summon, was sent around the same time my son was taken." Derek explained; his patience and obedience was beginning to subside.

"So you're saying that you think the summon was sent with the expressed purpose of distracting you from your sons confiscation?" Rutherford asked. Derek was put off by the choice of words the man was using, "confiscation"?

"I do." Rutherford sighed and began to chuckle.

"Mr. Powers, when your wife died Special Forces was quick to support you in ways no other institution would even think about…" Rutherford began. "…we set you up with top mental and emotional support for the expressed reason of keeping you sane enough to take care of young Ashton and to continue doing the high caliber of work you were doing before her death." Derek was getting more and more frustrated as the conversation went on; he was afraid it was showing on his face and body language.

"What does any of this have to do with my son being _kidnapped_?" Derek asked.

"I will tell you…" Rutherford began. "…Special Forces never ask about what you do in your personal life, in fact we attempt to keep your life the way it was when we decided to put you on Special Forces, unless of course it's being detrimental to your body of work."

"My son was kidnapped-"

"…So in return Special Forces ask that its agents do the same…" Rutherford cleared his throat. "…What we do at S.F. is federal business, so when things happened we're really expecting our agents not to ask questions…" Rutherford continued.

"My son was kidnapped by Sentinels-"

"Let me make this clear. We don't know where you're son is, all we know is that he was, in fact, taken by Sentinels; but, you know that we don't handle or question captures from that branch." Rutherford was stern in his answer.

"The Sentinels were implemented to capture criminal mutants…" Derek explained. "… My son is not a mutant and most certainly hasn't committed a crime."

"Your son is only twelve years old; there wouldn't be any proof that he's or isn't a mutant until he turned thirteen years old."

"What does that even mean…?" Derek began to speak over Rutherford. "…that theory hasn't been proven and even if my son was a mutant he hasn't committed a crime; it's illegal to detain a minor especially one that has not committed a crime."

"We live in a dangerous world…" Rutherford began more loudly. "…These new terrorist have found themselves with an advantage over any agency that we have been able to create yet. There has to be something that we can combat in a serious and effective way." Rutherford continued. "If all lines of Protocol were followed when dealing with dangerous people, like mutants, we would be in a far worse position that we are in now."

"Are you excusing my son being kidnapped?" Powers felt his heart beginning to race; he couldn't think straight; the sudden realization that he wasn't going to get any answers made his heart burn with fear.

"All I'm saying is that you have unfortunately fallen in a very unfortunate part of our new reality…" Rutherford explained. "…Sooner or later you're going to have to face the facts about your son, once _those_ people get taken into the world of Sentinels and homeland security they don't ever come back. Is it the perfect system? No it's not; but, in order to protect innocent lives we have to do something's that we won't always be proud of" Derek shook his head and moved closer to the door.

"You're saying I should forget about my son?" Derek asked.

"I'm saying that Special Forces and D-Branch rarely communicate with one another." Rutherford stated.

"D-Branch knows where my son is…" Derek spoke.

"D-Branch is the most protected Agency in the world…" Rutherford reaffirmed. "…They're not as accessible as Special Forces"

"It doesn't matter how I get there; but, I will if it means finding my son."

"I wouldn't suggest it…" Rutherford stood up. "…you're meddling with the protection of the country. People have been put down by the government for much less."

"I'm not letting them keep my son…" Derek explained with certainty. "…my son is not a mutant and has not done anything wrong." Rutherford shook his head and pointed a finger at Derek.

"I cannot let you go into D-Branch using Special Forces as a crutch…" Rutherford commanded. "…I'll need you gun and badge."Quickly Derek turned over the items, Rutherford took them and sat down. "Don't embarrass this office." Rutherford said quietly.

"I don't think I could anymore than it already is."

Derek turned out the door and the young man looked at him briefly before turning his face down and Derek walked out without another word. Unsure of how he was going to get his son back.


End file.
